


The Day He Came Back

by TheBatmanFreak



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Canon Death, Established Relationship, Hell of a lot of Angst, Jim Moriarty - Freeform, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Smut, Violence, mormor, sebastian moran - Freeform, tags added as story proceeds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:25:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3355820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBatmanFreak/pseuds/TheBatmanFreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the rooftop, Sebastian's world had halted. There was nothing left for him now that Jim was dead, taking the majority of the empire with him. He waited for two years in their London flat for a glimmer of hope to return to his life. </p>
<p>His prayers were answered at 7 o'clock on a Wednesday night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's going to jump and if he doesn't John Watson gets a bullet through the brain- either way they've won.

 The gun felt firm in his hands, the window in front of him so smooth and thin, feeling the force of the wind up against the slim glass. How many times had he been here? Sat in some dusty corner of an old building whilst Jim got to be out there having all the fun. Sebastian half wished that he could be up there with his boss, torturing the so called 'genius' that had been consuming both of their lives for the past few years.

The sniper tightened his grip on the weapon and watched as the tall figure in a massive long coat swept his way onto the roof of the hospital. His arrogant head poised and ready to challenge James, and how wrong the detective was. Jim had gone through the plan with him already, Sherlock's going to jump and if he doesn't John Watson gets a bullet through the brain- either way they've won. The doctor was meant to be rounding the corner any minute, Jim had said he would so Sebastian stayed waiting for the little man to show his face. A tiny part of him was almost hoping for Sherlock not to do it, he would certainly enjoy shooting doctor Watson if it came down to it.

Jim and Sherlock, the two brightest minds in Britain, seemed in heated conversation. Jim was circling Sherlock like a shark, taunting him with his superior intellect, Sebastian wished he could here what his boss was saying, the smooth Irish voice biting and twisting in the ears of the dark haired detective. His eyes flitted back to the street, still no sign of the doctor. All of a sudden he felt a strange sense of fear creep and curl in his gut, what if Sherlock really didn't do it? What if he beat Jim? Sebastian would be stranded with a loaded rifle and years of criminal conduct seeping through his life story, a sitting duck for Mycroft fucking Holmes. The sniper shook his head, he would never let that happen. He'd never let himself be faced with the humiliation of interrogation by the Holmes boys, Jim had done it for fun once, and had reported back that it had been boring, as he thought almost everything was, and more than a bit condescending.

On the roof, things had taken a turn for the interesting. Sherlock was standing on the edge of the rooftop, he was actually going to do it, he was going to jump. Sebastian felt a slight smile tug at his face , but still felt a little disappointed that he hadn't gotten the chance to splatter the brains of Doctor Watson all over the street. Sebastian loosened his grip on the rifle and relaxed a little bit, all he had to do was watch Sherlock's skull smack on the pavement and he could pack up and go home. With any luck, Jim might actually be in a good mood, which meant that no more items of cutlery would be thrown his way.

Sebastian's happy smile faded as he saw the grin spread across Sherlock's features, and as he saw the bastard jump back down from the roof ledge. The next few minutes went by in blur, the sniper saw more heated exchanges between his boss and the detective and felt his heart thud in his throat with every sentence he saw forming on Jim's lips. What had happened? Had Sherlock won? His grip had returned the rifle and was so tight that his knuckles turned white. He felt beads of sweat and goosebumps forming on every patch of his skin. What the hell was going on?

Sebastian's pulse was racing as he finally saw the two men draw close together as if in compromise. He had never felt so panicked in his life, and he didn't quite know why. Sure, Sherlock hadn't jumped, but he didn't look the victor either. When Sherlock and Jim's hands greeted each other, Sebastian felt at a complete loss, had he given himself up? Sebastian’s mind half retracted the earlier thought, maybe he could stomach a jail cell and Mycroft Holmes if it meant still being with Jim.

It was at the point that Sebastian made out the words 'Good luck' on his boss's lips that he felt sick to his stomach, James Moriarty wasn't the kind to just give up and compromise so easily. He knew that something big was going to happen, either Sherlock was going to die or...

The gunshot echoed against the glass as Jim fell to the concrete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally this was going to be a one shot (chapter one), but I found a way to continue the story. Bearing in mind the prologue isn't the best as I wrote it in a bit of a rush. Well, updates will be weekly (hopefully) and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. x


	2. 30 minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd found an escape in what he was doing. Jim Moriarty was the distraction and excitement he needed. Jim Moriarty was his addiction.

It had been so long. So long since Jim had left him, just pulled the trigger and vanished off the face of the earth. To Sebastian Moran, it felt like a lifetime.

Everyone else in Moriarty's network had gotten over the disappearance with the exquisite timing they had been trained with. There was no time for mourning in their world. It hadn't taken long for a new king pin to establish themselves, although Moran had paid little attention to them, no matter how many people they killed or how clever they thought they were, no-one would replace Jim.

Sebastian hadn't the heart to move out of their shared flat, it was the only place where he could remember Jim properly, he could never show how he felt outside, there was no room for weakness in his line of work. Whilst he still had the odd job and meeting with some of Moriarty's connections, people had mostly left him alone. They didn't know how close they were exactly, but people knew that James Moriarty had a soft spot for his right hand man, sometimes the bloodthirsty killers that surrounded Moran surprised him in the weirdest of ways with their respect of his privacy. Nevertheless, Jim's disappearance had driven him crazy. He'd lost count of how many times he'd been sat at home in the flat only to find himself crying for hours on end, and then waking up to a stinking headache and empty bottles next to their bed that he never remembered getting. He'd even started smoking again. He'd smoked for so long before he'd met Jim, it gave him a release and relaxation that life could never offer him, it was something he'd grown so accustomed to doing. Jim had hated it of course and demanded that Moran stopped whenever he was in his presence, and what ever the boss wanted-it was done. The sniper knew better than to argue. But, strangely enough, Sebastian had never felt the craving that came with the withdrawal, he'd found an escape in what he was doing. Jim Moriarty was the distraction and excitement he needed. Jim Moriarty was his addiction.

His world had been so empty after James had left. Sebastian had kept expecting to wake to Jim playfully smiling next to him, or shouting into the phone whilst pacing around their tiny kitchen, he even missed the times when Jim would get a dark look in his eyes whenever Moran fucked up and he'd terrify the sniper to his core with vicious words. Maybe he missed it more than he'd ever admit.

                                                                                                                                                    ~

On the morning of that day, Sebastian had woken up with another headache. He had been trying to cut down on the drinking before his body finally gave out on him ( _what's the point, Jim's already_ _gone_ ) but the previous night he had felt unbelievably anxious, fear knotting away at his stomach, he had reached for the bottle and drowned the fear. It was only when the sniper groggily passed the tattered calender on his wall did he realize. Happy birthday, Sebastian Moran.

He went about his day as per usual, waking himself up with a jog followed by a hot, steaming shower, Jim had always hated the hot water and complained about Sebastian steaming the entire building down, now he got to enjoy it in peace. He then spent the rest of his day keeping a watchful eye on Jim's former web. He knew the bloody Holmes brothers had been trying to dismantle it for years, as soon as Sebastian found out about Sherlock being very much alive he'd known they would be coming for him. But, despite the younger's intelligence and the elder's connections, there were still a few pods Sebastian had kept running under their noses, playing it unbelievably safe. They were pretty small, but still effective, and kept Sebastian's income running, having to rely on the money Jim left behind just felt wrong to the sniper.

It was at seven in the evening when Sebastian received the message. He had just finished instructing the few workers in Amsterdam on their next task when a text message appeared on the screen of his phone. Unknown number. Normally the sniper was hesitant to read anything from people who liked to remain anonymous, could be the fucking Holmes brothers for all he knew, but something about the curious timing sparked his interest. He shut off his laptop and carefully put it away in the draw as another noise from his mobile alerted him, whoever it was had just messaged him again. Whoever they were, they were rather impatient. He unlocked his phone and slowly read the messages.

'30 minutes.'

Followed a few moments later by a word that made Sebastian’s skin crawl.

'Sebby.'

The sniper held the phone with shaking hands as the blood drained from his face, leaving him as white as sheet. _Sebby_. He felt the fear curling and knotting itself in his stomach as he took in what he had just read. _Sebby_. He shook himself in an attempt to clear his head before the fear hit him like a wall. Whoever this person was, they knew his name; and if they knew that, they most certainly knew where he lived. He shuddered to think what else they knew about him, if they had been watching him for weeks, studying his routine, analysing his weaknesses...No. There was no time for this; in now less than half an hour someone who knew way more about Sebastian than he could ever have hoped was going to walk through his front door. And he was going to be waiting for them.

He had no time to leave, there was a lot of stuff he'd have no time to pack with him and he definitely didn't want them found if he couldn't come back, and besides, it was probably what they wanted, him to come running outside so that they could shoot him in the face first chance they got. That was what this was all about, making him sweat. Well, he was going to make sure they'd regret it. He'd be right here, waiting for them, armed and ready.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about not updating this story! Chapter 3 is nearly finished and I'm working on chapter 4. Thank you so much for reading!


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